Until the Rains come in
by Sunkist
Summary: Told from an older Helga's prespective, journey into the low points of her life including drugs, friends, death, and the only thing that ever really made sense...Arnold.
1. Default Chapter

_Authors Notes: I don't have much to say, the story speaks for itself. Please review and feel free to email me at anytime. Keep in mind that the characters are older and just because I write their actions does not mean I condone what they do. Drugs are bad. M'kay? Heh. Enjoy. _

_Disclaimer: All "Hey Arnold" characters are not mine, only borrowed. : ) I only own the emotions I give them…and Jenny ; ) _

_Dedication: To you, for making me write, feel, and remember._

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**Until the Rains Come In**

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_"Or we could talk about Arnold." _

The psychiatrist told me I wasn't crazy, just a neglected youth. Suffice it to say I wasn't impressed. Anyone could've told me that. Hell, I could've read it on the back of a cereal box with more credibility, but that's not the point. 

The day I punched Brainy it all changed. In the principal's office…As if the lecture on self-control wasn't enough, before I knew it – counseling. This lady was different. I, of course, stormed in, rude, scared, and heartless as always, but she saw right through me. My pathetic eleven-year-old attempt to block out the world that had worked so flawlessly crumbled under her gaze. She knew it. She knew it from the instant she saw me. I wasn't crazy. I was lost. I was alone. 

To make a long story short, by the end of the three hour secession, I had jumped upon her oak coffee table, thrown her glossy magazines into the air and proclaimed: "I love him! I love him madly!" She smiled, but it wasn't your typical "I'm-an-adult-and-I've-just-pulled-one-of-your-petty-secrets-from-you" condescending gaze. She was proud of me and I wasn't crazy. 

We spoke more after that. After several explosions about my parents…or the two grown up children that call themselves my parents…well, when they remembered I was in the house….she told me that Arnold was my stability. Doy… like I didn't know. 

Like I didn't wake up every morning of my childhood, take a long hot shower, make my own damn lunch, and leave the still quiet sleeping house. There were some days I stood in the kitchen smearing peanut butter on a slice of bread and I'd find myself just holding the knife limply in my hand as I listened to the soft sound of the upstairs shower turning on. Big Bob getting ready for work. Those days made me realize how very lonely I was. It was all a big downward spiral from there. Olga and her summer returnings, boasting of far off places I'd never see, things I'd never achieve, and dreams I'd never live. She was positively radiant…the idiot. Her smooth, short, tame blonde hair and clear blue eyes…her thin frame…and me…the awkward teenager, thin and taller than any boy in my class, with the exception of Stinky, long, messy blonde hair always haphazardly thrown back into a ponytail, and green eyes…not that anyone noticed. Hell, could I blame them? I didn't look in the mirror if I could help it. Like I didn't know…Like I didn't know he was my stability. 

My obsession with Arnold, as crazy and dependent that it was, was still the only reliable thing in my life. Each morning, in the dark house, I brushed my teeth, made my lunch, and shut the door in silence, but I left with expectancy…today would be the day I would tell him. Today he would look at me the way he looked at that waste of oxygen Lila. Today he'd love me. Like I didn't know…Like I didn't know he was my stability….

_            "I like your bow. I like your bow because it matches your pink pants."_

 So I pushed the only one who ever gave me life away. I threw away every perfectly good opportunity to build a friendship with my fear, rage, and torment. I made his life hell, and still…he never turned me away. 

I entered highschool just as, if not more, bitter than I was at P.S. 118. Suddenly surrounded by crowds and crowds of new faces and painfully familiar friends. There were clubs to join, activities to get involved with, and…evils to dance with….but that's for later. Suffice it to say, I finally thought I had found my niche. Drama.

I stared at the sign on the Drama club doors for hours before going in. After all, the last play I had done was Romeo and Juliet…with…Arnold. I let my pride take over my fear and headed into the crowd of students in the front of the stage. 

"Hi, I'm Jenny." This girl with brown hair down to her butt and big hazel eyes randomly walked up to me.

"That's good. Glad you know your name." I said, walking away from her. Why was I such a bitch?

"Hey? You don't like people trying to be nice to you, then …the hell with you." She said. 

I spun around with much more anger than I was feeling. "What the hell do you know? You don't know me!" 

"Not like you'd give someone the chance anyway." She sneered and from that instant on… Jenny was my best friend. So we did the typical highschool things. We skipped school on pep rally days. We smoked in the bathroom because if we got caught they sent us home…so we were free all afternoon to roam the streets of lower Manhattan. We rode the subway as far as it would go and navigated our way home. We went to wild parties, did too many drugs, and ended up passed out and laughing on the stoop of Arnold's doorstep too many nights to remember.

_Like I didn't know he was my stability. _

Jenny and I had a lot of things in common. For one, we both listened to old rock music too loud. We hated everything and somedays we hated nothing. We loved life. We hated life. We were independent, but we needed each other. We hated pop music and heels because that's what everyone else enjoyed, and we hated everyone else. Most especially, Jenny hated Rhonda. 

Ah yes, Rhonda, with her polished black pumps, expensive skirts and blazers. Her and her damned perfect black hair and her evil almond eyes. She had the build of a supermodel, the attitude of a supermodel, but the brains of a mob family. If there's anyone in my life I've ever seen Jenny come close to fearing, it was Rhonda. Little miss bloody prom queen – too good for the cheerleaders, too cunning for spirit squads. Rhonda lived in a realm all her own and two types of people fell under her. Those who longed for nothing more than to be exactly like her and those who hated her with such desire it was nearly an obsession.  All that said, I still don't know how the hell Jenny and I ended up at her glorious birthday party with those twinkling wine glasses and white grapes falling from crystal pedestals. It wasn't a secret around town that her parents came into money through corruption and murder. It wasn't a huge shock whenever we found out about the literal mob ring that was being formed while we all slept peacefully in our beds. Then there was precious little Rhonda like a porcelain ballerina inside a music box, dancing on command when the lid opened, and falling back into the darkness and shame whenever it closed. 

            "Why the hell are we going to Rhon-da's…daaaaling?" Jenny smirked, sitting upon the Patacki kitchen countertop. Her long brown hair gracing her knees. For as much as I'd never say it, if I could be anyone, I'd have been Jenny. Her and her tanned olive body, long brown hair and tiny little waist with fierce arms and a look in her eye that just begged those guys who thought she was gorgeous to approach her just so she could kick their asses. 

  
            "Because she's our favorite person in this entire damned world." I smirked sitting on the island countertop across from her.

            "But it's her..and her family…and does this mean I can't wear my boots?" Jenny asked with a tone so serious I laughed. Glancing down to her black military boots halfway laced the to her shin, scuffed and dirty… I grinned at the thought of Rhonda's mothers face. 

            "I think we have to dress up."  I answered dully, looking out the window. 

            "What's with you and this whole staying connected to the people of your childhood thing?" Jenny asked sliding off the counter to rummage through the liquor cabinet. "Hey! Way to go Bob! Boy, he knows how I like it." She smirked, standing up to reveal a bottle of Vodka dangling from her fingertips. 

            "Don't you already have a hangover?" 

            "I'm drinking it off." She said cheerfully. 

             That was just the thing about Jenny. That body could handle more liquor and drugs than most men, but she was blissfully not dependent on either. She could have a hangover and kiss a cop without getting as much as a second glance. The girl would never be in the AA simply because she had nearly perfected a chemistry within her body of what she could handle in a night. 

So we were rather self-destructive. We only had each other. 

            "You didn't answer me. What's with you and staying connected to people you went to grade school with?" 

            "We're kind of a disgusting, demented family. I owe it to them." 

            "Helga, you hate Rhonda." 

            "Nah, you hate her. I grew up with her." Somehow that summarized exactly what I was feeling. 

            "Who the hell cares who you grew up with? We're graduating in a month." 

            "Since when did you care about graduation?"  I asked, taking a sip of the Vodka and feeling it burn my throat with a bitter soothing hand. 

            " I don't. I'd drop out if I didn't think that an education could get me out of this hole." Jenny grew very dark and very angry. The repercussions of her hangover were about to surface. Her tanned hands balled up into the angry fists of a four year old. 

            "Hey, you don't have to go. I don't mind. It's just something I have to do. I can't explain it." I said putting the vodka away and walking upstairs to my room. Jenny's footsteps fell heavily behind my own as we neared my door. Rock music softly droning into the hallway. 

            "Ugh. I still don't know how you live here." She said lying on her stomach across my pale blue bedspread. 

            "It's shelter." I said, rummaging through my closet. 

            "Yeah, but it's a shelter with pink and blue walls." She laughed and rolled over to pick at things on my nightstand. I had grown used to Jenny's way of rummaging through my things. She had the attention span of a two year old on speed. 

            "Hey," she said grinning as she pulled herself into an Indian style sitting position. "What's this?" 

            To my horror, in her hand laid a tarnished gold heart frame. _Arnold._ I rushed across the room in a mad rush. Ripping the frame from her hands and throwing it into the bottom of my vanity drawer my eyes caught his eyes and all my childhood angst seemed to swell within my ribcage. "It's nothing." I said, returning to the closet and sliding out of my jeans. 

            "He had a goofy head." She laughed, laying back on a pillow and stretching out her long legs. "Hey Patacki, you're getting' a tan. Very unlike you." 

            "It's not by choice. It's called 'evading the house whenever the family is home.' It leads to me being outside and walking around a lot." I pulled my shirt over my shoulders and put on a black tank top in its place. 

            "You goin' in your underwear?" 

            "You goin' with that face?" I said, searching for a skirt. 

            "I'm wearin' what I have on." She said, getting to her feet. 

            "Finally!" I said, pulling on a flowy knee length white skirt with large black flowers spread around it. Shoes….damn…oh well, black flip flops never hurt anyone. 

            "A Skirt?" 

            "Olga brought it back from France." I answered walking over to the vanity mirror. 

            "You're makin' me look bad." She said. "I'm offended and hurt." Jenny followed me to the vanity and looked at my fourth grade class picture. "Good thing you fixed those eye brows Patacki." 

            I looked at Jenny's outfit and once again grinned at the way Rhonda's country club parents would welcome her. Jenny wore baggy dark green khakis bunched up around her knees from her military boots and a thin white beader, cut off to reveal a sliver of her tiny stomach. Her black bra was noticeable through the thin material of the beader and if her hair wasn't as long she would've been a bit more revealing than she intended. She walked up behind me and began playing with my hair. It was long then, falling halfway down my back in waves and brightened by all the sun I was getting. 

            "This is about as ready as I get." I said, standing up and picking up a gift bag in the corner.

            "You shouldn't have!" Jenny smirked. 

            "Not for you, you idiot, it's for Rhonda." 

            "Either way you shouldn't have." She answered. I locked the door behind us and we set off towards the Mansion. Twilight was falling over the tattering buildings like a sad painting. Orange and purple washes dripping all over the hot pavement from the colors of the sunset. _Like I didn't know he was my stability. _


	2. Every Lonely Song

_Authors Notes: Apologies for this taking so long : / Regardless, thank you for holding on, and remaining my faithful readers. _

_Dedication: To "Pig" for always believing in me without question or falter. "I'll be the harmony to every lonely song that you'll ever learn to sing…" ~ Nickel Creek _

**Until the Rains Come In  – Chapter Two**

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_"Oh you probably won't remember me, it's probably ancient history. I'm one of the chosen few, who went ahead and fell for you…" _

_                                                                                                                        ~ Jan Arden "Insensitive" _

            From the instant we passed through the crystal doors of the grand entry, we knew we should've turned around. Rhonda's mother asked Jenny to remove her boots, her sharp snooty little nose abruptly upturning at the sight of her.

            "Honestly! What type of raiment is that?" Jenny mimicked, laughing as we walked towards the party. "What the hell is raiment anyway? That lady was psychotic." 

            "It means clothing." I said, glancing briefly at all the tall white walls, crystal glasses, and chandeliers twinkling in the hot summer air. 

            "Helga. Why hello and how are you darling?" Rhonda said, shaking my hand limply. 

            Looking square into her eyes I replied, "Rhonda, don't give me little miss hostess okay? I grew up with you. It's great to see you." I smiled and handed her the present. "This is for you." 

            She blinked fiercely and then broke a warm smile. "You've changed since junior high, since P.S. 118." She took the bag from me and smiled again. "Thank you Helga." 

            Jenny shoved her hands into her pockets beside me as Rhonda walked away.

            "One of these days I'm sure you'll explain to me why you are nice to people that don't deserve the gum off your shoe." She mumbled as we fell deeper into the room. 

            Heartbreakingly, I made eye contact with Phoebe only once. She had slightly grown and allowed her hair to grace her shoulders. She wore a red summery slip dress and looked as angelic and innocent as always. Somehow, looking at Phoebe made the vodka on Jenny's breath smell stronger. 

            In fact, that night I made spoke to several of my old friends. Each remarked on how much better I had turned out, but with each smile and compliment from them I felt guiltier and guiltier about Jenny, who stood awkwardly beside me and didn't say much. I felt myself wearing a mask. I had convinced everyone that I was completely approachable, stable, and sweet. Little did they know about the secret evils I lived daily. I suddenly felt as a large black spot on Rhonda's sparkling white walls. I grabbed Jenny by the wrist and walked over to the punch table.

            "You've got them all confused Patacki." She laughed, "they think you're some sweetheart now. Ha!" 

            My insides lurched, ashamed at the life I lived, but I forced myself to laugh. "Yeah, you wanna get out of here?" Every smile I received was making me feel dirtier and dirtier. She was right…I didn't belong here. 

            "Yes! I've been waiting for you to say that all night." 

I turned to say goodbye but she caught my arm. "Come on, they won't notice if you go." My heart sank…no they probably wouldn't. 

            Turning resolutely towards the door, I tried to catch Phoebe's eye one last time. Maybe I was lost. Maybe I was crying out for help. Maybe … I didn't even know. With as much graciousness and sincerity that I could muster, I thanked Rhonda's mother and stepped out into the humid summer night air. My mind was elsewhere as I collided with the blonde boy from my past. I must've been blind to not see him coming in the doorway but I stepped directly into his arms as he reached for the doorknob. We bumped heads rather sharply and both held our foreheads as we looked up…and met eyes. 

            "I'm sorry." I mumbled, looking down. I felt like a four year old with sticky fingers being looked down upon by an angry parent. I felt…ashamed. "Excuse me." I said as I tried to rush past him, but he caught my arm. My bare arm…and his warm fingertips twisted around my wrist…and I had to look up…I had to…and those eyes…those humble blue green eyes…. He was looking right into me…he could see all my embarrassment, all my fears, all my reasons for being ashamed. 

            "Helga?" he asked, shocked..but smiling. 

            "Yeah, move it footb…" I caught myself…I nearly laughed at my immaturity… "I'm sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going." 

            He laughed. "Wow. That wasn't an insult." 

            "If you don't let go of my wrist you're going to get much worse than an insult." 

            "Why do you have to be that way?" 

            "Be what way?" I could hear how defensive my voice sounded, but there was nothing I could do. 

            "Act like you hate everyone." 

            "I don't hate everyone!" I spat back. Hell, I was so afraid of him seeing how I truly felt … I had to push him away…it was written all over my face…my arm was shaking under his grasp…sweat trickled down the small of my back.. I was a wreck… clammy and cold….if he would just let go of my arm. "What I **_do _**hate are people who assume they know everything about you! Now move it football head!" the familiar insult fumbled out of my mouth like I was an eleven year old back in the classroom of my childhood. 

            Arnold's jaw tightened and he let go of my wrist. "Fine, you haven't changed." And he gently began to brush past me. He looked at me once more, his face inches from my own in the doorframe.. "and heaven forbid you let anyone in past your attitude." His eyes ever so slightly narrowed and he walked away from me without turning back. I watched as girls ran to hug him…as Gerald ushered him over to their friends…and as the blonde boy in the long sleeve navy blue shirt and khakis from my past faded into the other faces of the crowd. 

            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Well, he was a royal dickhead." Jenny mumbled, kicking a stone into the verdant green lawns of Rhonda's estate. We stepped onto the sidewalk, now wet with the evening rain, and felt the humidity grabbing us about the waist. The city always came alive at night with it's glaring stop lights and car horns, to the way the lights glittered in the high rises. The air was thick and the people were no longer rushing to work, but strolling in no direction but Anywhere…ah, the ways of New York. 

"You said he was a friend?" Jenny said again, apparently discontented with my silence.

"Obviously not in his eyes." I answered. "Where are we going?" 

"There's a party at Stinky's." she smirked as we headed towards the subway. 

"No Jenny.  No!" 

"Comeon Patacki! It's just a little get together." 

"Like hell. You know just as well as I do that "a little get together" at Stinky's means more drugs and alcohol than any human should consume in a lifetime!" 

"Since when did you get all soft on me?" she laughed. We shoved ourselves onto the crowded, hot, subway and I clutched the silver ring above my head…like a halo….

"I'm not soft. I'm tryring to change." 

"Why the hell change what isn't out of date?! If it ain't broke Helga, don't fix it." She laughed and elbowed me in the side. 

"How in the HELL did I let you talk me into this?" I groaned as we walked down into the dark, moldy, stale basement of Stinky's.

"Stop acting like you're some saint and get over yourself. You know just as well as I do that this used to be your favorite hangout before you started getting all sentimental 'bonding-with-the-people-of-my-past' and high and mighty on me." She mumbled with a slight tone of anger that made me walk a little slower behind her. 

I waved my hand in front of my face in a desperate attempt to divert the foggy haze of a marijuana cloud floating up the stairs. "Jenny, I swear, I could get high just by walking around down here." 

She laughed, which slightly comforted me as we cut our way into the center of the overcrowded, dark, smoky, room towards Stinky, Sid, and Tyrone, a new face but just as tainted as the rest of us. Tyrone could charm a snake with his cool green eyes and coffee colored skin. 

"Helga, you dressed up for me." He whispered, embracing me and already smelling so strongly of cocaine I imagined he had been here since early morning. 

"Don't flatter yourself. Stinky are you crazy? It reeks of drugs in here. If you get busted there's no way of saving yourself." I said. 

"Hey, cut the mothering shit and lets get this going." Sid said, teetering down towards the table, shoving magazines to the floor, creating a white thin line of fine powder in their places. 

"Nice to see you too, Sid. I see you still haven't mastered the art of finding a condom for that nose of yours." 

            "You want me to bust your face Patacki?" 

            "You're so full of it. You can barely sit down without stumbling , let alone hit me." 

            "Settle you kids." Stinky said, taking a long swig of beer before speaking again. "The thing is Helga, I don't care if I do get caught. They'll bust Pop, not me." He grinned and sat down at the table. My chest clenched tightly. I didn't trust myself to get high tonight. 

            "Jenny, I can't do this. Not tonight." I whispered – my first mistake, Jenny was twisted already so she loudly proclaimed: " What do you mean you can't!!"

            "So much for whispering."  I mumbled. 

            "Sit down, Helga." Jenny said, sloppily trying to pull me to the floor. 

            "I can't…I …" my mind raced with any excuse, "I don't have the money for this right now. Next week, I promise." I shrugged my shoulders and hurried away from the table. Tyrone rushed after me. 

            "Helga. You know you can tell me why the hell you aren't over there right now." He smiled with enough clarity that I believed he wasn't as high as I had predicted. 

            "I just can't tonight." I said, reaching over to uncap a beer. The melting ice trickled over my sweaty fingertips as I clutched the bottle like a lovers hand. 

            "That's shit. What's the real reason?" 

            "I'm trying to change. That's the reason." 

            He laughed. "Helga, a girl like you can't just change. I mean, you and Jenny are the devil's duo." 

            "Listen to me, Ty. I woke up the other morning to the same old dark and quiet house I've woken up to for eighteen years. It's filled with the same aching memories, creaking steps, and unfamiliar faces I've known my entire life. I don't want to be in this city forever. I want more. And most importantly, I want out. Heaven knows I can't drink my way out. Although I would if I could. So I've got nothing left to do but pack up and get out." The words seemed powerful, floating out of my mouth and then hovering inches above me in a glowing trance.  I owned them. I loved them, and I believed them. I would get out. 

            Ty looked at me a bit disbelievingly. Maybe he thought I was just like every other girl who had dreamed leaving this dirty lower Manhattan block. Hundreds of mouths had echoed the timeless lines _"I want to get out" _but only a few ever did. And those left behind, although they would smile and wish the departers goodluck, were left with heavy hearts, trapped in an unforgiving neighborhood …left with envy and malice for those who escaped. But mark my words, **I would escape.**


	3. Theres still time for you

I awoke the next morning to damp bed sheets strangling my body as I fought to escape the nightmare still vivid in my memory. Rolling over onto my side I reached for my journal I still religiously turned to after a tumultuous nights sleep. My sweaty fingers grasped a moment too late as the pen slid out from my fingertips and rolled into the darkness underneath my bed. I rolled onto my back again and stared up all the ceiling - what was worse?

The fact that I could not bring my weary frame to retrieve the pen?  
Or the fact that the very idea of reliving the dream in writing scared me enough to resume my coma like position for another hour or so?

Frustrated, I ran my fingers over my clammy forehead and into my hair.

Fire.

On Fire.

Help me. Help me. Help me.

Why won't you help me?

On Fire.

Fire.

- - Enough. Out of bed. Now.

"Helga!" Miriam's voice slammed into my bedroom door.

"Yes!" I heard myself scream back as I jolted into an upright position, the tiny hairs on my arms standing at attention.

The fear is cold isn't it? Fire isn't. You should have saved me. You know you could have. 

"You have a visitor!"

"I got it. I got it. I know where the room is."

"You've been here before?"

-- silence.

"You're for real? No shit?" came Jenny's disbelief traveling up the stairs behind Miriams.

-- silence.

"Ohmigod. You're serious. …uh..yeah, I've been here."

"Well then help yourself in dear." 

Jenny pushed open the door and stared at me, "That woman needs to remember to refill those prescription bottles. Holy shit. She's not here….Whoa Patacki! Long night?"

"Hey..and no."

"You look like death."

"Yeah, I had a bad dream."

"Me too. I dreamt I walked four blocks to come see you and your crazy mom wouldn't let me in then when she did I found you in your room looking like a corpse." she laughed and sat down on my dresser.

I regained control of my legs and made my way to the closet.

"So you're here. What's the news?"

"I ran into that guy that was a prick to you last night."

I nearly choked.

"Arnold!"

"Yeah. The kid with the weird head." she laughed, picking at her fingernails. "He showed up at Stinkys."

With my tank top halfway over my head I swallowed loudly. "He WHAT!"

"I don't know Helga, I'm not his keeper. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that he's not that bad afterall. He's actually pretty damn smart."

"Yeah. He is."

The silence was deafening.

"You like him, Patacki?"

There were several things I did next that completely ripped any validation I had in two. It cold have been the quick jerk of my neck to face her, or the way my eyes held hers with a fierce empty stare, or the way I blinked profusely. Yet, despite all the dead signs that read YES on my forehead, I choked out a meager, "No. Not at all."

- - too quick. She knew. Why was she asking?

"Why?" I recovered.

You're so brilliant Patacki. Interrogating her next will definitely validate your plea. You twit.

"Because I think I'm intrigued." she said simply.

Simply those words fell at my feet. She was so simple. So honest. So much braver than I was. So unafraid. Of course she was… she wasn't hiding a history of secret childhood love obsessions inside her still beating chest but maybe the biggest difference between us was that Jenny was not afraid of me and had no inhibitions about telling me the blatant, painful truth.

I offered her only a pathetic, "Oh."

"So I think I'm going to try and run into him later."

I regained my composure. "How unlike you. Chasing boys." I winked.

"How unlike you." she retorted, "Being jealous."

And like a silent predator, she slithered out my bedroom door and down the stairs, leaving me open mouthed and empty. 


End file.
